Friday Night Fights
by Scarlett88
Summary: This story takes place during episode 2x04 Three Sundays and shows a slightly different ending to the Draper family argument about raising the family.
1. Chapter 1: The Argument

**Mad Men belongs to Matt Weiner, AMC, and Lionsgate.**

The Draper house oozed with tension on what was considered to be Good Friday, a day of peace and quiet celebration for many New Yorkers, but one would never know that from 42 Bullet Park Road where a storm was brewing on an otherwise peaceful night.

"You take no responsibility for anything that goes on this house!" Betty Draper shouted after her husband Don Draper, continuing an argument that had been quietly brewing between them over the past week. What had started with their son Bobby Draper's mischievous behavior was becoming a battle over discipline in the household.

Don pushed forward, his anger at home being fueled by a horrible day at work. As Creative Director at Sterling Cooper, Don had had the unpleasant task of letting go one client in place of another. Mohawk Airlines had been with Sterling Cooper for years, and business with them was going very well; but the crash of an American Airlines plane pushed the company into overdrive – they now wanted a fresh start with new representation. The advertising agency's newest Director of Account Services, Duck Philips, had a contact with American Airlines and arranged a meeting with them to discuss a possible partnership. What no one had anticipated though, was the firing of Duck's contact. Sterling Cooper was no longer in the running for American Airlines, still forced to go through their pitch to the company, and no longer had Mohawk Airlines to represent.

Betty continued to spew her anger, dwelling on her home life while her husband worked and played in the city. Though it was only spilt milk at the dinner table, the fight was officially about everything and anything.

Don clenched his fists to his side. "I pay the bills, put clothes on your back, the damn stables!"

"Don't you dare!" Betty cried out as they reached the bedroom. She was tired of being told to appreciate everything that her husband had given her, when in the end all she felt was loneliness. "I'm here all day –alone with them, outnumbered." Betty felt her voice begin to crack, but she adamantly refused to back down. She saw no reason to be saddled with two kids while her husband did whatever he wanted in glorious Manhattan.

"What about Carla, doesn't she count?" Don sneered, referring to the Draper housekeeper and often nanny when Betty chose to leave the house.

"It's not her job to raise our children!" Betty insisted. "I'm here, and then you come home and get to be the hero!

Don glowered at Betty, who had touched a very sensitive nerve. "You want me to bring home what I got at the office today? I'll put you through that window!"

In that moment, Betty released all of her anger and frustration, pushing her husband backwards, which was no small feat given her very tiny frame.

Don counteracted with a push of his own, sending Betty's body backward, her head hitting the deep brown vanity table in the bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2: The Aftermath

**Mad Men belongs to Matt Weiner, AMC, and Lionsgate.**

"Betty!" Don shouted. Time seemed to have stopped as Don looked at his wife's tiny frame sprawled on the carpet. _I didn't mean it, _Don told himself, running to her side. Don shook his head as Betty pressed a hand to the back of her head, now covered in blood from the contact.

Betty let out desperate moan as she writhed on the ground. "Oooohh." Betty closed her eyes to the pain.

Don looked up to find his two young children starring into the room through the hallway. "Go to your room!" Don said in desperation as he watched the blood continue to ooze from Betty's head. "Hang in there Betts," Don whispered, instantly regretting his act of violence toward his wife. Don grabbed a roll of paper towels from the bathroom sink, instructing her to use them to blot the blood. Don proceeded to reach for the bedroom phone, dialing the Hanson family across the street. Don breathed a sigh of relief when Francine agreed to come over and watch the kids.

"Betts can you stand?" Don asked, gently propping her body off the ground. "I'm going to take you the hospital."

Betty continued to weep as Don helped her off the ground, swinging one of her shoulders over his neck for support. Bracing one hand around her waist, Don led her down the stairs.

Francine Hanson came to the door within minutes, unable to get an answer out of either party as to exactly what had transpired. Francine watched the car drive away as she went up the stairs to tend to a very upset Sally and Bobby who were filled with dozens of questions as to what exactly had happened that night.

Don secured Betty in the front seat of his convertible. "It'll be okay," Don told her as Betty pressed her hand against the back of her head.

"Should we have waited for an ambulance?" Betty winced through the pain.

Don shook his head. "This is quicker; we'll take you to the nearest Emergency Room and get you looked at right away."

Betty turned her body away from her husband, who struggled to keep his eye on the road. "Betty I…" Don was at a loss for words as he looked for the right way to apologize.

"Don't say anything," Betty said coolly, starring out the window at the blank sky.

Don abided by her wishes as they finally pulled into the St. Vincent's Hospital. Don rushed to open Betty's door, offering her his hand to help her out. Betty took Don's arm, looking straight ahead at the double doors that held the emergency room. Don ushered Betty to one of the chairs in the lobby of the hospital while he went to the front desk to pick up paperwork to fill out.

"How are you feeling?" Don asked as he wrote their names on the first page of the form.

"How do you think?" Betty asked with a hint of anger in her voice. The bleeding had finally subsided, but Betty could feel a sizable bump on the back of her head. "How could you?" she asked softly, finally looking him in the eye.

"Birdie, I…" Don began to plead for forgiveness as one of the nurses called out Betty's name.

"You can finish the paperwork and give it to the secretary at the desk," she instructed Don as she helped Betty to the examining room. He looked at the next question on the form. _Describe the incident resulting in the visit to the Emergency Room. _His face turned white as a sheet as he wondered what Betty would tell the doctor in the exam room. The pen dropped to the floor with a tiny ring, unnoticeable to Don, who was drowning in his thoughts.

"Sir?" A woman in a white uniform, who Don could only assume to be a nurse, approached him with a compassionate smile. Don said nothing as he reached down for the fallen pen. "Sir, I'm sure that your wife will be just fine. St. Vincent's is known for excellent care," she said, patting his shoulder.

Don managed a 'thank-you' for the young woman, asking her if she could please check on his wife and see how she was doing. The woman promised to do exactly that, thanking him for his apparent attentiveness to his wife's condition.

Don quickly moved onto the next question on the page. _Describe the patient's medical history. _Closing his eyes, Don attempted to conjure up all of the little details that Betty had told him about her family, regretting the fact that he couldn't remember a word of it.

The sound of one of the hospital nurses moved Don from his deep thought. He was finally allowed to see his wife. Don walked down the immaculate ivory walls, his mind continuing to race. He replayed the night's events again, everything culminating in a giant showdown – the product of unspoken words and repressed anger.

Looking through the window of the patient door, Don saw Betty talking to one of the doctors. Don opened the door with one quick motion, taking a stance by his wife, resting on the hospital table.

The doctor crossed over to Don, offering him his hand in greeting. "I'm Dr. Rydell. Mr. Draper it seems that your wife is a very lucky lady." The doctor produced charts for Don and Betty to see, all showing sign of no permanent damage, nothing more than a bump on the head that was going to heal in time.

"That's wonderful," Don said, taking Betty's hand in his. Her tiny hand felt limp in his large manly grasp.

"I advised your wife to be more careful next time," Dr. Rydell explained, patting her on the shoulder.

"More careful?" Don asked, sending a questioning look to Betty. Betty shot him an authoritative look, squeezing his hand.

"The injury," Dr. Rydell interjected. "Betty said that she was climbing on a chair to hang a painting and fell backwards."

Betty nodded her head as Don rubbed his eyes.

"She'll be more careful, I'll see to it myself," Don assured the doctor, more than willing to play along with Betty's lie.

"I'm ready to send her home right now with instructions to take it easy for the next few days. If there's any problems or discomfort feel free to come by any time." Dr. Rydell shook the couple's hands, leaving them alone in the room.

"So that's it?" Don asked as Betty grabbed her purse.

"I guess so," Betty said.

Don opened the door, for Betty, taking her arm in his. Don filled the checkout papers at the front desk as Betty looked out the window at the starry New York sky. The clock in the hospital read 10:00, and they both knew that it was finally time to head home.


	3. Chapter 3: Acceptance

Don opened the car for Betty, making sure that she was situated before closing the door and going to the other side. Climbing into the car, Don rested his hand on her knee. "I didn't mean to hurt you," Don said, putting the key in the ignition.

"You never do," Betty sighed, bracing her body against the window of the car door.

Don turned the headlights of the car on as he pulled out of the parking lot. "Why did you lie to the doctor?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"It was easier than telling the truth," Betty said quietly. "I don't want a whole drawn out deal out of one argument."

"It was just an argument," Don agreed, hoping to be able to put the night behind him. Don glanced over at Betty's silhouette. "How's your head?"

"Better," Betty said softly. "The doctor was right about my getting out lucky."

"We both did." Don stopped at a red light. Looking at the streets ahead, Don suggested to Betty that she rest her eyes; he would wake her when they got back to the house. Betty readily agreed, feeling exhausted after the night's long ordeal.

Don Draper drove down the New York streets, planning on making a quick pit stop before coming back to the house. He wasn't ready to go home yet, to answer Francine's waiting questions, or go back to the room where the argument took place.

Don quickly put the car in park and got out of the car, leaving a sleeping Betty in the front seat. He vowed to himself that he would never ever touch Betty or the children that way ever again – once was more than enough for him.

Betty Draper opened her eyes upon hearing a set of keys coming into the car. Turning on her side, she was surprised to find Don holding two thick chocolate shakes. Betty readily accepted the one in Don's right hand, eating precious little of her dinner earlier that night.

"Yum," Betty murmured, savoring a long sip through the straw.

"We haven't done this in a while," Don said, buckling his seat belt.

"Not since we got married," Betty said, numbing her fingers on the cool cup.

Don glanced at his wife. "That can't be right."

Betty let out a small laugh. "Our dates are usually fancier than this."

Don offered his wife a smile, nodding his head. "I used to take you out for a chocolate shake after dinner, when I didn't have enough money to get dessert at the restaurant."

"I remember," Betty said. "I enjoyed every minute of it."

"Did you really?" Don asked. "It wasn't anything special."

"It was the company that made them so great," Betty reasoned.

Don reached for Betty's hand, relieved that she allowed him to finally touch her. "You know that I'm sorry, Betty."

"I know – that's another reason that I didn't tell the doctor the truth. I didn't know what he would do if he found out that you…"

"It won't happen again," Don promised.

Betty nodded her head, closing her eyes. "I was so afraid."

"So was I. I sat in the hospital for what felt like an hour not knowing how you were doing. And then the doctor said that everything was fine."

"We were lucky," Betty said again. "Now all I have to do is get the blood out of the carpet and furniture," she muttered.

Don and Betty sipped their shakes in silence, neither one wanting to be the first to bring up the issue that caused the fight. Betty finally reached for Don's elbow. "I can't raise those kids alone," she said quietly. Don opened his mouth to speak but Betty continued. "You're not with them all day like I am; you don't see half the things they do."

"Bobby won't learn anything from being spanked – the only thing he'll get from it is fear."

Betty looked at Don, waiting for him to continue.

Don took a long sip of his shake. "I never told you this, but when I was younger my father beat the hell out of me. All it did was make me fantasize about the day I could murder him."

Betty rested her hand on Don's arm. "I didn't know that," she said softly.

"And I wasn't half as good as Bobby," Don added to relieve the tension. "He's a little boy."

"He's our boy," Betty added. She scooted closer to Don, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You can do with the kids as you see fit – but I won't spank them," Don said finally.

Betty nodded her head. "I love you."

"I love you too," Don seconded, squeezing her shoulder. "You ready to go home?"

"I am," Betty said finally.

Don put the keys in the ignition and started down the dark streets. Tomorrow would be another day, and the argument was put behind him, a reminder to both parties to pause before lashing out at one another again.


End file.
